


Burn to Fly

by Hamimifk (BatchSan)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Body Horror, Community: bloodyvalentine, Drabble, Gen, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatchSan/pseuds/Hamimifk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one said becoming a sprite would hurt so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn to Fly

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: _Davesprite: body horror, the transformation into a sprite is not a painless one_ @ bloodyvalentine

It's not like he wants it to go down like this but he's seen enough in the last few months to haunt him for whatever the rest of his poor excuse of an existence could actual survive for, which he doubts is very much longer. Dave doesn't sigh as he hands over his sweet swag, glasses and suit, to the other Dave - the Dave that's going to take over and do shit right. He is tempted to shudder as he pulls on his past self's clothing, not that he needs them, but there's no reason to risk being prototyped in the buff and have a weird, permanent floating dick all over the damn place or something. Plus, he needed his shades.

He thinks of Rose, his Rose, alone where he last saw her. She was scrunched up on her bed, a martini glass in hand and knees tucked beneath her chin, trying not to sob as he lingered at the door. This was so fucked up, he had told her. She agreed with a nod and a long sip from her glass. He sort of had meant that a thirteen-year-old shouldn't be getting wasted the way she currently was in the process of attempting, but they were about to die - no, not die - fade from existence, so a martini was fine. Nevermind the bottles of her mom's liquor they had downed indiscriminately in recent months - which, barely scratched a dent into the horde the woman had had. Dave almost respected that amount of devotion to a bad habit, ironically, of course.

Pushing it out of his head, he steps into the prototyper and is so glad that the other Dave isn't around, couldn't stand around and watch this, because he screams. He screams and screams until his throat is raw and then shredded away. His body is on fire, being ripped apart from the inside out, changing and forming to something new, something different. Feathers push out of his skin, tearing through the still there flesh and it feels like dozens of needles shooting out of the area all around his neck. His legs become deformed, melding together as they stretch excruciatingly slowly to a fine point, robbing him of his hold on the ground, making him crash down. Just as well because the pain was so overwhelming he wanted to just curl up and try to get away from it, but he couldn't.

He screams again as wings don't politely push out of his shoulder blades, but literally slam through, tearing bone, muscle, and skin as painfully as they could, it seemed. His fingernails fell off, taking bits of flesh with them as his hands become clawed and talons push through the tips of his fingers. The hardest part comes when a slit forms through the middle of his chest, piercing through his heart as a sword appears through his body.

This wasn't cool or ironic, was Dave's only coherent thought as his vision swam, pain screaming through his every remaining nerve, and his body burned in an orange glow before he blissfully passed out.

When he awoke, he could fly.


End file.
